


A Study in Red

by fearfully_beautifully_made



Series: A Study in Pants [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Play, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Bottom John, Lace Panties, M/M, Not in the "Traditional" Sense, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Red Pants, Top Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-04 10:39:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6654712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fearfully_beautifully_made/pseuds/fearfully_beautifully_made
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John ordered a new pair of panties for Sherlock and himself to enjoy... And enjoy they certainly do.</p><p>This is the second part in the series A Study in Pants but can absolutely be read as a stand alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Study in Red

**Author's Note:**

> Hello darlings! I thoroughly enjoyed writing A Study in Lace so I thought I would write a sequel. As always, I'd love to hear any feedback you may have and any ideas for future works in this series (or any at all, really) are more than welcome. ;)  
> Sadly, these lovely characters do not belong to me and I make no profit from these works.  
> Enjoy!

John Watson didn’t always make the best decisions; right now that seemed to be particularly true.  They were at a crime scene and Sherlock was hovering over the dead body whilst John stood off to the side, waiting, half listening to Lestrade rambling on and on at him about something John couldn’t even focus on.  He was flushed and sweating, and his pulse was racing, and he was half hard in his trousers.  

Sherlock was sitting back on his heels, his hands folded under his chin as he thought about the puzzle in front of him but his eyes kept flicking up to John before he looked back down, scowling at the body.  Yep, this had been a terrible decision; it was throwing Sherlock off, it was making him equal parts horny and uncomfortable, and even if no one had realized what was going on yet someone was bound to sooner or later.  John’s stomach turned anxiously at the thought even as his cock twitched in misguided arousal.

“You alright, mate?”

Lestrade’s voice pulled John out of his thoughts and he glanced over at Lestrade who was looking at him with his brow furrowed as though he were trying to work something out.  “Hmm?” John asked, swallowing down the lump in his throat and fighting the blush he felt spreading across his cheeks.

“I asked if you’re feeling alright?  You aren’t looking so great.”

John couldn’t help but glance at Sherlock who had looked up from the body once more to glare in John’s direction.  “Fine.” John said a bit breathlessly.  He cleared his throat and looked back at Lestrade, tearing his eyes away from his genius lover only three yards away.  “I must be coming down with something.” John said with a shrug.

“Oh!” John and Lestrade both looked over at Sherlock.  Sherlock ran his eyes from the top of John’s head to his toes, his eyes raking fire along John’s already overheated body.  John felt himself simultaneously blush and shiver, he must have figured it out, what John hadn’t told him when they’d left the flat to come to the crime scene.

“Have you solved it?” Lestrade asked, interrupting the way Sherlock was mentally undressing John.

Sherlock flicked his eyes from John to Lestrade, the heat that had been pooling there immediately falling away and John couldn’t help but be impressed.  Sherlock stood, “This?” he gestured to the corpse and he snorted.  “Of course I’ve solved this, child’s play.”  Lestrade just blinked at him and Sherlock sighed, “It was his lover, of course.”

“Come again?”

“Really, Lestrade?  Use your eyes.  His wife said he’d gone out of the restaurant to take a call.  If that’s true and we’re assuming it is, where is his phone?  Additionally, it was two in the afternoon, the restaurant was quiet, what type of phone call do you have to leave someone else to take?  If it was work related he would have simply answered it and taken care of it at the table; personal then.  What kind of personal calls do you not want your wife to know about?  If it’s related to family she would be privy to that information, regardless, so it must be something of a more illicit nature.  So he answered his phone, went outside, and his lover was waiting for him.  He was attacked from the front, so statistically speaking that indicates he probably knew his killer.  Our victim was stabbed in the chest over where people suppose the heart is.  Furthermore, this man was gay and married to a woman, of course he had a lover on the side.  My assumption would be that his lover didn’t know about the wife, he came here for a meal as well and probably saw them together here, and was enraged.  He brought a steak knife out of the restaurant with him and stabbed him, the knife would is consistent with the width and depth one of the knives from the restaurant would be.  He took the knife back inside with him, it’s probably been through the dishwasher already and is out for someone to use again.”

“Amazing.” John whispered in spite of himself.  Sherlock’s eyes flicked back to him and he grinned a positively filthy grin that told him Sherlock was going to do all sorts of unspeakable things to him.  John felt a shiver run through his body and his cock twitched.

Sherlock looked back at Lestrade, “Find the phone and you’ll find his killer.  Pull the phone records, the last person he spoke to is the person who killed him.  Let’s go, John.”

John followed along behind him, never having felt more grateful to be leaving a crime scene.  They got a few blocks away and Sherlock dragged John into an alleyway and pinned him to the wall.

“What the hell, Sherlock?”

In lieu of answering Sherlock pushed his lips against John’s, pressing an insistent tongue at the seam of John’s mouth until John opened his lips to let Sherlock inside.  He moaned as Sherlock’s fingers came down to grip his hips and draw them toward Sherlock’s groin so both of their erections came in contact.

Sherlock pulled away, “Let me see.” he hissed, his pupils blown wide.

“We’re in a filthy alley.” John protested.  

“And?”

“Anyone could walk by and see!”

Sherlock smirked at him and knelt at his feet, “I never realized you had an exhibisionist streak John.”

“I don’t!” John all but squeaked as Sherlock rubbed his cheek against John’s denim clad cock.

“Mmmmh.  Yes you do.”  Sherlock mouthed at the bulge of John’s penis through his trousers.  “You don’t want to be watched, necessarily, although I do think you'd be more amenable than you believe you are, but you get off on the idea you might get caught.  You were half hard the entire time we were at the crime scene.”  Sherlock’s hands framed John’s hips, “Let me see.” he said again, this time allowing that pleading tone John could never resist to enter his voice.

“Say the magic word.” John said, the small voice in his head telling him this was a terrible idea getting drown out by the sight of Sherlock on his knees.

“Please.” Sherlock said, looking up at John under his eyelashes, “Please, let me see John.”

John knew he was shamming a bit, that Sherlock was playing him, but he moved his hands to his zip and slowly undid the snap before sliding it down.  Sherlock watched enraptured as he revealed his pants to him.  They were new, John had ordered them a week ago after Sherlock had walked in on him wanking in women’s panties.  These ones were a red lace thong and made for men, so they held his cock and his balls in the soft cradle of fabric more easily than the women’s ones had.  They had come an hour before Sherlock got the phone call for the case they’d just gone to and John had taken his package to the bathroom and proceeded to get ready.  Truthfully, he hadn’t meant to wear them to the crime scene at all but he hadn’t wanted the rest of his hard work to go to waste.

Sherlock let out a low whine as he leaned forward to nose at the bulge of John’s penis covered in lace before rubbing his cheek over it.

“Fuck, Sherlock.” John gasped, reaching down to tangle his fingers in Sherlock’s hair.  John’s arse clenched and he let out a panting moan.

Sherlock looked up in surprise at the noise and John knew he was being deduced once more.  “Turn around, John.” he growled.

John moaned and obliged, presenting his arse, still clad in denim, to Sherlock.  He felt Sherlock’s long fingers reach up to the waistband of John’s trousers and slowly drag them down over his arse revealing most of his naked flesh to Sherlock’s gaze.  The cool breeze on John’s overheated flesh was divine and reminded John that they were outside in a bloody alley where anyone walking by could see them should they choose to look this way.

“You are stunning.” Sherlock murmured, running his hands along the twin globes of John’s arse and massaging.

John let out a groan as his last surprise for Sherlock shifted inside him.  John leaned forward, bracing himself on his arms on the wall and spread his legs as far as the trousers around his thighs would allow.

Sherlock spread his buttocks and John almost came just at the strangled noise Sherlock made behind him.  He felt Sherlock slide the fabric of the thong away from his hole to uncover the base of the small plug John currently had snuggled into his arse.  “John.” Sherlock gasped out with something akin to wonder and John felt his chest expand with pride.  

Gently, Sherlock rocked the plug further into John’s hole and then let it rock back.  John groaned and tried to spread his legs further but the denim trapped him.  He tried to rock back again into Sherlock’s hand, tried to fuck himself on the plug.

But Sherlock pulled his hand away and spun him around once more.  John’s back hit the wall with a thud and Sherlock pulled his panties down so John’s cock was outside of them, leaving his balls  cradled inside.  “Mmmh.” Sherlock moaned as he ran his tongue over the head of John’s cock.  “Just imagine what you look like right now, John.” Sherlock said.  “Imagine if someone were to glance down this alley as they walked past.  Imagine what they would see.  You must look completely debauched, your head tilted back, your cock and arse exposed, your hands scrabbling at the wall for support.  They’d see me knelt at your feet feasting on your cock, feasting on the noises you make.  Do you think they’d stay to watch?  I would stay to watch you, John, to watch you fall apart; you’re gorgeous when you come.”

Sherlock licked a stripe up John’s cock before sliding his lips over the tip of John’s cock sucking at the glans.  He flicked his tongue at the frenulum and sucked for a moment, apparently enjoying John's bitten off moans.  Then Sherlock tipped his head back a bit and opened his throat and thrust his mouth forward so John’s entire cock was swallowed down his throat.  He swallowed around the head a few times, John's balls drew up even tighter to his body and he almost came.  “Fuck.” John said, as his hands came forward to tug at Sherlock’s hair lightly.

Sherlock slid his mouth back down his cock and pulled off with an obscene pop; Sherlock was fantastic at giving head, positively filthy and he always seemed to thoroughly enjoy it.  Oral fixation, John’s brain supplied.  

Sherlock continued to work John’s cock with his hand, “Are you going to come for me, John?”

John shook his head frantically against the wall, “I want to come when you’re inside of me.” He gasped as Sherlock added a twist to the end of his stroke.

“Oh, don’t worry.  You’ll come then, too.”  Sherlock smirked up at him, “This is just to take the edge off.  I don’t plan on letting you come for a long while once we’re home.  I’m going to play with that plug inside of you, then I’m going to get out that lovely dildo and fuck you with that, and then I am going to fuck you.  Then you can come again.”

John gasped as Sherlock opened his mouth and took the head of John’s cock in again; bobbing his head and tonguing at the glans that were now fully exposed.  He felt one of Sherlock’s hands leave his hip and then Sherlock was pushing the bit of lace covering his hole to the side once more, his fingers came up to toy with the base of the plug.  Sherlock swallowed John to the root while thrusting the plug further into John again and again, angling it to hit his prostate and John came without a second thought.

Sherlock moaned around his cock as John released down his throat and Sherlock continued sucking and working his tongue along the underside of John’s cock until John was squirming with sensitivity.

John let Sherlock tuck him back away in his panties, shimmy his denim up his hips, and zip him away.  When Sherlock stood John leaned forward and captured Sherlock lips in a lazy kiss. 

"Love you." John murmured when Sherlock pulled away. 

Sherlock chuckled. "I do tend to have that effect on people." he said as he took John’s hand and pulled him away from the wall and took off toward Baker Street.

“No you don’t.” John said with a laugh.

Sherlock grinned and squeezed his hand, “I tend to have that effect on you.” 

John loved moments like these.  Moments when their life just seemed so ordinary; just two people in love.  Moments he never could have imagined he would have with Sherlock Holmes.  “That you do.” John said.

Sherlock waved down a cab that had appeared straight out of thin air as they usually did for him and they bundled in.  John squirmed a bit to get comfortable with the plug in his arse and Sherlock’s eyes narrowed in on him.  He gave him a quick predatory grin and slid to the seat in the middle instead of staying on his side and leaned in to nuzzle at John’s neck.  

“Sherlock.  Do not get us thrown out of this cab.” John warned.

“Ain’t you Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson?” the driver asked, causing both Sherlock and John to look up at him.  

Sherlock was about to make a scathily reply undoubtedly, dsicussing the merits of the word aren’t.  John stomped on his foot, “We are.” he answered before Sherlock could. 

“I reckon you’re alright, then.  Helped my mate Billie a while back.  Besides I don’t judge, do I?" he shot them a grin in the rearview mirror before adding, "But if you make a mess on the back seat I’m charging you an extra 40 quid to have it cleaned.”

“Deal.” Sherlock replied and went back to sucking a bruise on John’s neck.  John gave him a half hearted shove but they both knew his heart wasn’t in it.  

“I’m not sure how I didn’t notice.” Sherlock confessed as his hand slipped down John’s back and caressed his arse through his jeans, rubbing against the crease between his buttocks. “It should have been obvious from the way you were sitting in the cab on the way to the crime scene.”

John shrugged, “You were thinking about dead bodies.”

Sherlock hummed and licked the shell of his ear, John shivered, “How did it feel wearing that to the crime scene?  Feeling it wiggled around in your hole every time you moved?  What if your walking had given it away?” Sherlock sucked on John’s earlobe and John fought back a moan.  “It was so distracting.” Sherlock murmured.  “The way you were squirming and flushing, even your respiration and heart rate were high.  I thought perhaps something had aroused you at the crime scene but I couldn’t deduce what.”

Sherlock nibbled at his throat just above his collar and John felt his breath rush out, “I hadn’t planned on it, you know.”

Sherlock moaned against his ear and John felt it rumbled through his body, shooting a jolt of lust straight down his cock making it twitch in a bid at coming back to life.  “All this was just for me?”

“Of course it was you madman.  Who else is anything I do ever for?” John huffed.

John watched as Sherlock practically preened, he huffed a laugh and pressed his lips to Sherlock’s again.  Sherlock took this as an opportunity to snog John thoroughly, prying open his lips and licking into his mouth, exploring every inch of it for what had to have been the thousandth time.  Regardless of the regularity with which it occurred, kissing Sherlock always left John a bit breathless.

“Oy!” John tried to pull back from Sherlock to no avail and had to shove at his chest to get him off so he could hear what the cabbie was saying.  

“I said we’re here.” he said with an exasperated tone.  

“Sorry.” John said, shoving at Sherlock to get him to move out of the cab.  “He can be very single minded when he’s focused on something.”

The cabbie grumbled good naturedly and John handed him his fare and a generous tip, “Thanks.  Have a good evening.”

“I don’t need to say the same, looks like you already are.”

John grinned ruefully but climbed out of the cab to follow Sherlock up the steps.  Sherlock had already swept in ahead of John, clearly eager to get on with their evening.  Mrs. Hudson popped her head out of her door as John was coming in, and John watched in amusement as Sherlock flew back down the stairs and grabbed his arm.  “Sorry, Mrs. Hudson no time to chat.  John and I have important work to attend to.”

“Is it a case?”

“Oh yes!” Sherlock shouted back down the stairs, tugging John along behind him.  “We’re just getting back from the crime scene.”

John laughed once they were through the door to their own flat and Sherlock pinned John against the door and pressed their mouths together.  John reached up and ran his fingers through Sherlock’s curls, he loved Sherlock’s hair and Sherlock loved having his hair stroked.  So imagine John’s surprise when Sherlock pulled John’s hands from his curls with a growl and pinned John’s hands to the wall over his head.

John felt his cock twitch against Sherlock’s thigh and Sherlock pulled away to smirk at him, “Interesting.”

“Sherlock.” John warned but before he could say more Sherlock was attacking his mouth again and John gave back as good as he got in spite of the fact that his arms were no longer at his disposal.  

Sherlock wrapped his ridiculously long fingers of his left hand around both of John’s wrists and let his right hand slide down John’s chest, deftly unbuttoning his shirt and his cardigan before slipping to his trousers and unbuttoning and unzipping those as well.  John felt his trousers pool at his ankles exposing his legs and sending a shiver through him.  Sherlock released his hands and pulled his shirt and cardigan off his arms before slipping his vest up and over his head, “So many bloody layers.  Honestly, John.”

John’s laugh was turned into a groan as Sherlock dropped to his knees and licked the head of John’s cock through the red lace.  Sherlock grinned cheekily at him as he untied his shoes and pulled them off his feet before pulling off his pants and his socks.

Sherlock licked his lips and looked John up and down appreciatively for a moment before saying, “Bend over the arm of the sofa.”

John raised an eyebrow at Sherlock but complied; spreading his thighs a bit so he could rest his abdomen over it comfortably.  He felt ridiculously exposed in the thong that left both of his buttocks on display; he felt a flush creep up his cheeks knowing Sherlock was perusing him with that gaze that saw every flaw.

“You’re perfect.” Sherlock breathed against John’s ear.

John let out a shuddering breath and Sherlock pulled back slightly, massaging at his tense muscles in his shoulders, “Just relax.  I’m going to make you feel so good.”  Sherlock kissed down his spine, “That’s it.  My gorgeous, perfect John.”

John felt himself melting into the sofa as Sherlock’s voice washed over him, he hummed contentedly and Sherlock reached down to massage his buttocks with his palms.  

“So good for me.” Sherlock murmured.  Then John felt him reaching between his buttocks and grabbing onto the base plug; Sherlock rocked it in and out of John for a moment just letting John get used to the rhythmic movement.  

“What do you think?” Sherlock said, “Ready for something a little bigger?”

John moaned and nodded, spreading his legs further wantonly.

“Excellent.” Sherlock said as he started slipping the plug out of John carefully.  Sherlock was always good about being careful not to hurt John, not to hurt that fragile tissue and fragile muscle; Sherlock knew how very sensitive that flesh was and John had never quite worked up the courage to ask if it was from a personal experience or just general knowledge.

John heard the drawer of the letter desk open and a moment later Sherlock was standing behind him pulling his panties down over his arse and putting John’s hole fully on display.  

“Mmmmh.  Yes.” Sherlock murmured running his forefinger around John’s slightly gaping anus.  “So perfect.” he reiterated.  “You’re hole is so loose and open John.” he said as he thrust a finger in.  “I just want to fuck you.”

“Please.” John moaned, his cock fully hard once more and leaking against his panties.

“Not quite yet, I did make you a promise, didn’t I?”  Sherlock asked as he inserted two fingers and stretched John’s hole further.  “Do you ever wonder if I could put my whole hand inside of you, John?” Sherlock asked as his fingers brushed John’s prostate.  “Do you ever wonder what it would feel like to have my whole hand up your arse, stretching you so wide.” Sherlock moaned and John couldn’t help the whimper that came out of his lips at the thought of being so exposed, so open. 

“Fuck. Sherlock.” John said, grinding back against Sherlock’s fingers.  

Sherlock moved his hand away and John groaned, his hips juttering back toward Sherlock seeking something to fill him.  Sherlock’s fingers were back a moment later, three of them this time thrusting into John, stretching him further.  “Yessss.” John hissed at the stretch and the tiny bit of pain that flickered through his body only only served to spike his arousal further.  

“That's it.” Sherlock said again, rubbing his back, clearly enjoying watching his own fingers disappearing into John’s arse over and over again.

All too soon those fingers pulled back out of John.  John groaned in frustration, quite sure that if Sherlock had continued he could have come just from his fingers.  

“Hush.” Sherlock soothed.  John heard the lube click open again and could imagine the dildo Sherlock was holding in his hand, slicking it up and preparing to thrust it into John.  

John wiggled his hips in supplication, waiting for him to get on with it.  Finally he felt the dull head of the dildo at his entrance and shoved back toward it, sinking down on it as best he could, only gaining a few centimeters before Sherlock pulled it back again.

“Just look at you, John.  So desperate.” Sherlock growled at him in that low voice that always made John think of dark chocolate.  Sherlock rubbed the toy teasingly around his rim, letting John feel it but not putting it where he was completely desperate to have it.  Then Sherlock slowly drew the toy up and down the crease between John’s buttocks; rubbing at his perineum and brushing it against his balls.

John could feel sweat beading on his back and sliding down his spine, his cock hanging angry and red between his legs twitched when Sherlock finally slid the dildo up to his hole and thrust it in a tiny bit.  “Yes.” John panted and rocked his hips back toward Sherlock.  

Sherlock rocked the toy in further and rocked it back out gradually deepening how far into John’s body he let it travel.  Finally John felt it buried in him all the way and he groaned as Sherlock left it most of the way inside of him and rocked it in and out just a few centimeters at a time.  It was enough to rachet John’s pulse up another notch but not enough to give him release.

“Sherlock, please.”  John panted.  “I need you inside of me.”

“You’re sure?” Sherlock asked as he tipped the toy down so it brushed John’s prostate.

John arched his back and his fingers scrabbled for purchase on the sofa as Sherlock mercilessly ground against that sensitive bundle of nerves inside of him.  “Uhhhn.” John groaned as his cock dribbled a fat bead of precome into his lace panties still stretched around his thighs.  The fabric was positively drenched and the tip of his cock rubbed against it as it twitched, John wondered vaguely if the panties were smearing precome on the sofa as well.  “Ahhh.  Fuck.  Sherlock.” John pleaded.

A moment later the dildo was pulled out and John could feel his hole grasping, trying to find something to pull back into him.  Sherlock spread his buttocks further using his thumbs and swiped delicately at his entrance.  “Beautiful.” he murmured.

Sherlock reached around in front of John and let his hand trail down to his dick still inside the panties.  Sherlock rubbed John's cock through the fabric between the V of his fore and middle finger and leaned over John’s back, his clothed front scratchy on John’s skin.  “You’re panties are soaked, John.” Sherlock tsked in his ear before nipping at it.  “You’re making quite a mess, aren’t you?”  Then before John even processed what was happening Sherlock was sliding his panties down his thighs, then past his knees, and finally his ankles encouraging John to step out of them.

Sherlock stepped back and John felt completely and totally exposed with his hole on display, his balls drawn up tight to his body, and his thighs spread allowing Sherlock to see his cock hanging down between his thighs.  It was shockingly erotic, having Sherlock standing behind him still fully dressed while he was completely naked.

“The things you do to me, John Watson.” Sherlock murmured, stepping back up to John and running his hands up John’s flanks and then sliding his hands up and down John’s back a few times.

John felt Sherlock spread his buttocks once more and then Sherlock paused.  He just stood there, admiring John’s hole which John was sure was quite puffy and red at the moment.  “Imagine if someone walked into our flat.” Sherlock said in a low voice.  “We didn’t lock the door, you know.  What if a client came up the stairs without us hearing?  Imagine what they would see if they came in right now.  The picture you make, sprawled over the arm of the sofa, you’re entire body simply begging for me to stuff my cock inside of you.”

John heard Sherlock’s zip slide down and couldn’t help but wiggle his hips and spread his thighs a bit further.  “Yes.” he groaned, imagining seeing the two of them from outside of his body.

“I’m still completely dressed you know.  I have my shirt and trousers unbuttoned but all of my clothes are still on.  Do you want me to fuck you while I’m still dressed, John?  My clothes would get positively filthy.”

John groaned when he heard Sherlock open the bottle of lube once more and then heard the wet sounds of Sherlock slicking up his cock.

A moment later Sherlock gave John’s arse a swift smack, it wasn’t terribly hard but it startled John all the same.  He let out a groan and his cock twitched, “I asked you a question.” Sherlock said.

John groaned, he couldn’t think he brain was overloaded with lust, “What was the question?” he panted.

John felt Sherlock spread his buttocks with his left hand and then the head of Sherlock's prick was rubbing against John's slick hole, John groaned as his cock leaked out more fluid.  “I asked if you wanted me to fuck you while I was still dressed.  Now I’m not sure you deserve it." Sherlock said, moving his cock a few centimeters out of John's reach.  "Maybe I’ll just toss off behind you with my right hand and keep your buttocks spread with my left and then when I come I’ll spill into your gaping hole a bit.”

John moaned and even though the idea had John’s balls drawing up tighter to his body and throbbing he couldn’t stand the thought of Sherlock not coming with his cock buried inside him. “Please Sherlock.  Please.  I want you to fuck me.  I need you inside of me.”

Then he felt it, the hot, fleshy tip of Sherlock’s cock pressed against his hole once more, “Yes.  Oh my Gaaah.” he groaned as Sherlock rubbed his glans over his hole more firmly, slipping just the very tip in before freezing again.

“Is this what you want, John?”

“Yes!” John all but sobbed.

Sherlock thrust home in one smooth motion and regardless of the fact that he’d barely brushed John’s prostate John almost came from sheer joy at finally  _ finally _ having Sherlock inside him.  John consciously clamped his muscles down around Sherlock and revelled in Sherlock’s grunt behind him.

Sherlock rested his head on John’s back and wrapped his arms around John’s chest, tipping him back slightly to adjust the angle that he was thrusting in.  “You’re perfect.” Sherlock groaned.  “I will never tire of this perfect, tight, incredible hole of yours, I will never tire of fucking you.” he growled in John’s ear.

“Please, Sherlock.” John groaned as Sherlock slid his hand down John’s chest and wrapped his long fingers around John’s cock.  He spread the precome on the glans and began to pump John’s prick in time with his thrusts.  John’s balls tightened and he could feel his toes starting to curl, he braced himself on his arms thrusting back onto Sherlock’s cock and then forward into Sherlock’s fist.

“That’s it.”  Sherlock encouraged.  “Fuck yourself between my fist and cock John, that’s gorgeous.” He added a twist onto the end of his stroke.

John gasped, “Sherlock!  I’m going to come.  Ahhh.  Yes almost there.” John moaned, Sherlock sped up his thrusts and snapped his hips harder against John’s arse.  “Yes, just like that.  Don’t stop.  Please don’t stop.” John chanted.  The base of his spine started to tingle as his entire body seized up and John was over the edge with a shout; painting the arm of the sofa, his chest, and Sherlock’s hand with his release.

Sherlock groaned as he continued milking John and a moment later, as John consciously squeezed Sherlock’s cock with his muscles Sherlock came too, with John’s name on his lips.

They stayed where they were for a moment; John draped over the arm of the sofa, Sherlock draped over John as both of them tried to catch their breath.  Sherlock was the first to move, carefully pulling out of John.  John hissed at the slight sting and the sudden emptiness.

“I know.” Sherlock murmured, pressing a kiss to the back of John’s neck.

He heard Sherlock moving but couldn’t be bothered to move himself to see where he’d gone and a moment later there was a warm flannel wiping up the mess their come had made.  When he’d finished Sherlock pulled John up and dragged him around the couch, spooning behind him as pulled a blanket over them.

John settled into the warmth with a contented sigh, enjoying the way Sherlock was running his fingers through John’s hair and pressing kisses to the back of his neck and his shoulders.  John hummed.  “You’re feeling very affectionate.” he murmured sleepily.

He felt Sherlock pause for a moment and John butted his head into his palm much the way a cat does to force its human to continue petting it.  “Yes, I suppose I am.”

Something was off in the sound of Sherlock’s voice and it made John’s senses, which were being lulled into sleep by hormones, perk back up, “What is it?” John asked.

“Nothing, really.” Sherlock said.  “Sometimes I just can’t get over how incredibly perfect you are and I can’t understand why you choose to be with me.”

John snorted, “Are you serious?”  When Sherlock didn’t reply John rolled over so they were facing one another, which was no easy feat considering the fact that the two of them were grown men sharing a small space on a sofa.  “We were meant to be together, Sherlock.  No one else in the world thinks I’m perfect.  Ask my hoards of exes.  You are my other half and I’m yours.  There’s no choice in the matter because there is no one else I could ever want to be with as much as I want to be with you.” John pressed a kiss to Sherlock’s lips.  “I love you, you git.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes but couldn’t keep the smile from his face, “I love you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Aaaand that's the end of that one! It was a fun one to write and I hope you all enjoyed it.  
> Blessings!


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